


hoping for a ghost inside the shell

by armyofbees



Series: over time without a break [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: -spection in general tbh, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, M/M, Metaphors, alex gets to be v v worried, but for now, only implied/referenced tho, retrospection, these kids need therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armyofbees/pseuds/armyofbees
Summary: He doesn’t think people starve themselves because someone at school said so, and he doesn’t think people kill themselves because they were having a bad day. People are clockwork, but they don’t tick like that.--Alex tries to understand why the people he cares about are so broken. He doesn't think he can put them back together.





	hoping for a ghost inside the shell

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I don't have much to say because this is literally the shortest thing in this entire series, but we meet Burr, so that's fun. Title is from [John the Determinist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URSpG6leecI) by Jeremy Messersmith. Enjoy!

Alex knows that introspection isn’t going to help them. He knows that finding a cause isn’t equivalent to finding a solution, but he still tries. And what for? It isn’t going to help John, it isn’t going to convince Lafayette to come to school, it isn’t going to bring Maria back. But he can’t  _ stop. _

Because he needs to know, if only for himself:  _ why? _

What can the universe possibly mean by this? By John slowly killing himself with neglect and Maria dead in a bathtub? Alex can’t parse out a metaphor in this mess, can’t find a reason.

Despite what everyone says, what seems to be society’s general  _ consensus, _ people can’t just be like this. At least, Alex doesn’t think they can. He doesn’t think people starve themselves because someone at school said so, and he doesn’t think people kill themselves because they were having a bad day. People are clockwork, but they don’t tick like that.

Alex knows why Maria killed herself—he listened to the recording, like everyone else. He watched as Eliza stood, stony-faced and unmoving, like everyone else. He listened to Maria tell him exactly why she did it. But it’s not enough.

It’s not just  _ why _ they did it, Alex decides eventually. No, that’s too small. Too  _ minor. _ People might kill themselves because of something that small, but it’s not that. He needs meaning. There has to be a  _ meaning _ that he can find, if only he digs deep enough.

Because there’s a difference between why Maria killed herself and what she meant by it. There’s a difference between why John is slowly dying and what he hopes to get out of it.

People are clockwork, but it’s inlaid with filigree and some of the gears don’t quite fit together and it’s far, far too complicated for Alex to really understand. For him to be able to fix. Once the clockwork in people breaks, there’s no putting them back together.

That’s the terrifying part. Because John is already cracking and he doesn’t know how long until Eliza starts, too. The others are starting to crumble, as well—Lafayette’s surface is chipping away and if he watches closely enough, he can see fractures growing along James Madison’s arms. Maria’s already broken. Alex doesn’t want John to be, too.

And so he searches for the meaning, but he finds none. He’d have to take the gears and levers and gauges apart for that, and he knows that he wouldn’t be able to put them back in place.

His mind flits away from John, away from Maria. He wants to think about them but his mind doesn’t and he has a headache, so he thinks about something easier.

“Alexander,” someone greets, and jostles him. He looks up from his empty notebook, watches Aaron Burr head for the back of the classroom, and latches onto the next thing that comes to mind. (Because he can’t think about John right now, because he can’t think about losing him.)

Alex doesn’t think he’s ever seen Burr’s real face. He doesn’t think anyone has. He thinks that Aaron Burr was born with a mask that he doesn’t take off even when he looks in the mirror.

Alex hates that Burr is above everything that’s going on. He hates that they used to be friends, and now, Alex can’t even work out what he’s thinking. (He never could, but that’s because he doesn’t think Burr is made of clockwork like the rest of them.)

Alex hates that Burr can continue with his life, unaffected by the chaos that is Alex’s friends. He hates that he’s a hurricane, but Burr can’t feel a single drop. All he wants to do is leave a ripple in Burr’s motionless world. All he wants to do is understand how to do it. (How Burr does it.)

And so he’s back to meaning, and so he always will be. He doesn’t even think that Aaron Burr knows what Aaron Burr’s meaning is. (He doesn’t think that he’s clockwork.) He wants to find out, but Burr is an enigma, and if he himself doesn’t know, then neither does Alex. He hates how that works.

But class is starting now, and he doesn’t have time to think anymore, and he thinks it would be best if he could never think again. Of course, that won’t happen, but at least he gets a break. Sometimes he wishes he could shut it off. (It doesn’t occur to him that maybe he’s the one who’s breaking. After all, if he doesn’t know his mind, how could anyone else?)


End file.
